


The Endings - [Virgil centric]

by AidanJail



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Abused Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Bullying, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manipulation, Mention of Emile Picani, Other, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, This is not a fun story, mention of patton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 11:10:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18991486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanJail/pseuds/AidanJail
Summary: Virgil doesn’t believe in happy endings. The question is why.





	The Endings - [Virgil centric]

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Abuse (abusive relationships, both physically and mentally), self harm mention, suicide mention, bullying, sex mention, manipulation (mental, sexual). The ending is neither happy nor sad.

If there was one thing Virgil wished he could believe in, it was happy endings. Even as he watched his best friend and their adorable partner interact, even as he saw all the adorable couples, even as he looked at his aunts, uncles and friends… It didn’t seem possible. Virgil was waiting for all of it to end. Logically, he knew that this was probably one of the reasons his relationships didn’t last long, and why his friends tended to drift away. Or maybe that was due to his trust issues, his depression, his mood swings and general anxiety. Probably a combination of all that. In any case, Virgil didn’t think happy endings existed. Nothing would change that either, not after all he had seen, even less with what he had been through.

“When was the last time you believed in happy endings? When did you lose hope? had asked Patton, several times. Virgil had shrugged, never said more at first. His friend had sighed and dropped the subject. Now, as he lied on his bed, the question was on his mind. What made an 18 year old lose hope like this? Was it the constant fighting, the violence, the yelling, the bruises and scars, the excuses of his parents? No, he remembered smiling with people, remembered picturing a future with someone and believing in it. Was it the bullying, just as constant in his life, during the entirety of his schooling? Again, he still had had hope during that time. Then, it led to…  _Him_.

Virgil gulped. He didn’t want to think about him. He didn’t want to remember his voice, his smile, his name, didn’t want to remember his insults, his lies, his orders, his disguised manipulations, his excuses. He didn’t want to remember how had had broken Virgil, passed the abuse as love.

Abuse. Virgil still hesitated on the term, in all honesty. His friends, the ones who knews, called it abuse, back then and still now. When Emile had learned about it, he had been angry. Emile was rarely angry. It had felt strange, and slightly scary. Virgil had promised himself never to anger him again. On an objective standpoint, the relation was messed up. A boy, 3 years older, cutting a younger one off of everything. 3 years wasn’t much… But the age made the difference.

When you’re 12, meeting a 15 year old who knows what you’re going through, who has been bullied too, whose parents have issues too (even though Virgil had been bullied all his life and him hadn’t, even though his parents didn’t have as many issues as his own), meeting this boy who understands… It’s impressive. And falling for him? It’s inevitable. When you’re 14 and the boy you love tells you he loves you, you forget about how many times he broke down on you, dumped all his issues on you, without ever letting you break down ever, without ever letting you say “no”, and you believe in the promises of forever, and the calls late at night telling you you’re the only one he ever loved, and will ever love. And when your so amazing partner screams at you for being happy, for having friends, for being on social medias, you apologise. And when he asks you stop talking to this person, when he asks, no, orders, you to hurt yourself on his behalf, when he tells you not to accept the help from your therapist, when he tells you what to say and do all the time… You obey. Because he’s older than you, he knows better, because he tells you he’ll leave you or kill himself and you know you can’t live without him (he told you that enough times). And when he tells you to kill yourself… You try. And when you fail, he gets angry and you know you’re a failure, and that you’re lucky he keeps you. By then, you’re 15 and a half, and you have his name carved in your arm. You belong to him.

When you’re not even 16 and he starts asking for certain pictures, certain services, you may first say no. But then you receive a single text, one sentence, and you’re begging him, crying for his forgiveness. You’re not quite old enough to give proper consent (16 years and 2 months here, you’re not there yet), he is nearly 19. You go in places you didn’t want to go to, you search for things you didn’t want to search for, you hope he’s proud. Nobody around you noticed, your parents are angry at you and call you names, your mom say you’re the reason their marriage failed. You live for him, the one person who gives you attention and the closest thing to love you know, you have nowhere to go and you don’t see what’s wrong with the relationship. How could you, your parents’ is just as bad. When you’re 16 and a half, and he breaks up, breaks you, you cry and want to die. You learn he had been cheating on you with someone who is 2 year younger than you. He says you should die, nobody would care anyway, now that he’s gone. And your parents yell at you for crying without any reason. You keep quiet, they didn’t know about the relationship anyway.

Virgil sighed, staring at the ceiling. Emile thought he should go to the police, and Patton would definitely agree, but he had at no point not given consent. And his ex had never touched him directly. The messages, the calls, all of it was gone now too. And mostly, Virgil did not want to relive it all, although it was on his mind all the time.

He used to call Virgil “doll”, used to give him orders, to message him all the time. He used to say it was good Virgil had been harassed, bullied so much, because it had led the younger to him. He used to fantasize over locking Virgil up, hurting anyone coming close to him, and called it “protecting what was his in his own way”. And now, Virgil couldn’t forget any of that, ever. It impacted every new relationship he had. He felt too clingy, too jealous, too worried. He had breakdown after breakdown, when starting a relationship. He didn’t talk well enough, didn’t communicate enough, kept his problems, his thoughts, his feelings inside, put the other before himself. That’s how he had been trained.

Now, as he stare at the void, he was left with too much baggage, not enough trust. He didn’t talk about his ex and what happened that much, just a few words, offhanded remarks until asked, not enough for his partners to understand how his mind worked, couldn’t bring himself to voice all his thoughts, and his partners always got upset at the lack of communication. It wasn’t their fault, just, Virgil and his stupid baggage. And it was his fault things always ended so quickly after that. He was even starting to feel numb to it now.

So no, Virgil didn’t believe in happy endings. There was always an end, it was never happy. The best you could have was a bitter-sweet one, with the minimum pain. Endings hurt, and life was just that, a chain of endings. All you could do was try to enjoy things while they lasted. Except Virgil didn’t think he could really do that anymore.


End file.
